


Shâsot

by greygerbil



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Character Continues Canonical Perilous Activity Despite Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Protectiveness, force pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: The Force has blessed Outlander Sivorin with a child. He plans to tell Theron, the other father, as soon as their next mission is over with. He should have known by now that things do not tend to go as planned for him.
Relationships: Theron Shan/Male Sith Warrior
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61
Collections: Unusual_Bearings_2020





	Shâsot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Asymptotical](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asymptotical/gifts).



The Force was a capricious thing that could guide you right into the open maw of a beast and as you limped away bleeding and shredded, you had to shrug your shoulders and call it fate. From when Sivorin had been a small child thrown out with his family’s wild akk dogs to fight them over food and told that if he didn’t make it back, he wasn’t supposed to, he’d known that the Force didn’t respect those who simply let themselves be swept away by its wild current. You had to master its challenges and face it head on and even as the years had taught him that the ways of the Sith were not the only ones, he still believed so. Fate, destiny, the Force, whatever you wanted to call it – it had never used kid gloves with him, after all.

Sivorin had been taught to consider challenges a compliment and opportunity to prove himself, but this meant that when good luck visited him, he was usually sceptical. After the first result he got in the med bay after looking for the cause of his recent nausea so he could be cleared for the latest mission, he had the Alliance doctors run the data a couple more times just to be sure. It always came out to say the same thing, though: A baby was growing in his belly, sixteen weeks along, with a genetic match to both him and Theron Shan.

“Congratulations are in order, I hear,” Lana said, when he stepped into the conference room an hour later.

Sivorin grinned at her and smoothed his deep red hand over the front of his armoured, hooded jacket.

“News sure travels fast. Does Theron know?”

Lana shook her head. “Only me. I ran into a couple of confused nurses, but I told them to keep it to themselves for now.”

It didn’t surprise Sivorin that some people stood aghast before the test result. The doctor had taken it in stride, though. She wasn’t attuned enough to the Force to throw a shuttle at anyone, but having treated Jedis for most of her career, she knew well enough that sometimes life sprung where it ordinarily wouldn’t by a touch of that pervasive energy all around them.

Sivorin wouldn’t pretend he hadn’t been surprised, though he’d known of the possibility. The Force had obviously worked with him, through him before, but never to create. Most all his accomplishments had been rend and torn, clawed and bitten from fate, burned and cut with the blade of his lightsaber. Perhaps this was the result of the temperance Sivorin had known lately, deciding that another emperor was the last thing the Eternal Throne needed, especially one as inexperienced as him. In an act of defiance against Emperor Valkorion, his Wrath had become the Peacekeeper. Such a person might well host a child inside them.

It was an interesting thing to consider, anyway. He had himself been brought into the world parentless, a bastard child of a woman who married well and hushed him up. Yet, as the offspring of two Red Sith parents, the main branch of the family had let him live, prodded and challenged him, kept him hungry, in hopes of making a warrior who’d bring their name honour. Sivorin hadn’t spoken to any of them in twenty years, but his upbringing hadn’t been unusual and he did not resent them. It had made him into the man who had survived long enough to get a shot at something bigger, even as his pure Sith blood had procured him an early ticket off Korriban that he hadn’t been allowed to work for as hard as he should have, and which may well have ended up killing him. However, when he’d considered the distant possibility of raising his own children in the past, he had never been able to say if he would do them the same favour, and now it seemed even less likely. If the child had Theron’s smile, the shape of his face, could Sivorin push it out of the door and allow the chance of death as punishment for weakness once it was old enough to walk? Even if it was just like him, a flame-coloured brat with eyes like molten stone, it would be a small and breakable thing that had only him for protection. Sivorin was used to people relying on him now and he did not sneer at them for their need to hide behind someone like he might have when he’d come fresh off Korriban.

Theron, of course, would have an opinion, too. He pretended he didn’t mind that he’d been left with the Jedi, but even Sivorin, who tended to take things at face value, almost tasted the bitterness on his own tongue whenever Theron spoke of it. It was mostly for his benefit that when returning to Iokath, Sivorin had sided with the Republic because despite everything, he was pretty damn sure Theron liked his father, too, in a quiet, hurt way. If he were a betting man, Sivorin would guess that Theron would pretend to compromise with whatever plans to rear the child Sivorin had, perhaps even honestly think he might, and mercilessly dote on the kid regardless. The thought left Sivorin smiling.

“I’ll keep it to myself for a bit longer,” he said to Lana, as he habitually checked the seat of his lightsaber at his hip. “Theron needs his head in the game and he’d be fretting over me too much if I spring this on him in the shuttle.” He frowned. “What’s the name of the planet we’re going to again?”

“Umbara,” Lana answered, glancing briefly at the screen before she turned to the doors. “Let’s hope we can get this over with quickly, then.”

-

It was a rush looking back on what happened – the flight to Umbara filled with giddy excitement over the secret, the elating chase through and on top of the train that left Sivorin’s heart pounding, and finally that moment when the energy barrier shut Lana and him away from Theron and just like that the world fell away under Sivorin’s feet when Theron told him he had failed and this was the price to pay. Then the train became a fiery ball at the mountainside and Lana and him picked themselves out of the wreckage and debris, bruised and stunned, and stumbled onwards by what paths the cragged landscape gave.

They boarded a small freighter back to Odessen. Sivorin sat in the pilot’s chair. He’d always enjoyed flying ships since the moment he’d first gotten his hands on his cousin’s shuttle, way back when he’d still been a runt, and returned it with only a few dents. He’d gotten his ass beaten for it, but his uncle had punished his cousin more severely, since he’d let a younger boy overwhelm him. Sivorin dwelled on those memories so he didn’t have to think about the way Theron’s face had twisted in disgust when he’d looked at him.

“I don’t know what to say,” Lana admitted, finally.

“Me neither,” Sivorin answered gruffly.

He wasn’t one for many words, anyway, and he felt dumb enough without trying to rationalise what had happened. Sivorin wondered how he never saw it coming, how after all the people who had put a knife in his back, he was still always surprised when the next blade twisted between his shoulder blades. _Moron. Why would an SIS agent be honest with anyone? What would he want with a Sith? You were never going to be what he hoped you’d be._

“Serves me right taking up with a Pub. What was I thinking?” he muttered, after a long moment.

“He fooled all of us,” Lana said, glancing carefully at him from the passenger’s seat by his side.

“Didn’t fool you well enough to knock you up,” Sivorin answered and put the ship on the highest speed setting.

Of course, the Force had done that. Who could say why now? Sivorin had never rightly understood these things and whenever he thought to have a clear hold on something, he was proven wrong. Maybe this was a punishment of some sort, after all.

It was a quiet flight back to Odessen otherwise. When they were back, Lana asked Sivorin if he didn’t want to send a message to Theron over the open channels, following long moments of silence after she was done with her debriefing.

“Is there anything you want to say?” she asked.

Sivorin stared at the holochannel device. What should he tell Theron? That he loved him, since that was all his empty head seemed to be able to produce at the moment? Theron already knew that. Sivorin was Sith enough to be passionate. He’d told him often, he’d told him again on the train while cursing him.

“My friend and advisor Theron Shan has betrayed the Alliance today,” he began, mechanically, and then with the speed of fire on dry tinder, he decided he would simply tell Theron exactly what he’d meant to say after the mission. “Most who have been with the Alliance will know that we were together.” That, Sivorin had also never made a secret. It had been too fun to make Theron blush at the war table. Would a better, more stern leader have kept his trust? Was that where he’d gone wrong? Well, it was who he was and he couldn’t change it now. “The Force granted us a child.” People would soon learn, anyway, for the nurses who had helped him would not keep quiet forever. Besides, soon Sivorin would show, and obviously so, for the change in form happened quickly with Red Sith during the middle of the pregnancy. “There is a place for you in the Alliance. You can still come back, Theron.” He lowered his head. “But if you won’t and you are intent on risking everything we all built, then don’t think I will hesitate to become the one who makes sure you don’t live to meet this kid.”

Sivorin switched the holochannel off, tried to find the anger inside him when in reality he felt like a hollow rotten fruit, and walked away.

-

_I swore I’d do whatever it took to protect you, remember?_

After weeks and weeks spent convinced that sooner or later he would be forced to run a blade through the father of his child, Theron’s hasty explanation on Nathema, held at the point of Lana’s lightsaber, should have given Sivorin everything he had wanted. He was glad, too – he had never wanted to kill Theron. Yet, as he looked at him, the rush of joy he’d expected to feel when he’d imagined Theron returning to him, armed with a great explanation and a love declaration, was missing. He could only remember the words he had spoken on the train. Could you sound that angry if you didn’t at least believe what you said a little bit? Sivorin supposed most people were better liars than him, so maybe it wasn’t surprising.

“That haircut looks stupid,” he said, turning his back on both of them. “Lead the way. Let’s go fight Zildrog.”

They pushed on through the reawakened landscape of Nathema in silence. Lana still had a tight grip on the handle of her lightsaber and Sivorin doubted it was because she feared the wildlife.

“Should you... I mean, the way you are now?” Theron asked after a long moment.

He dropped his gaze to the swell of Sivorin’s stomach, which was undeniable by now. He’d had to have the torso of his armour adjusted to fit into it.

“What choice do I have? Is there an option to turn around and leave that thing to the two of you without getting you both killed?” Sivorin asked.

Theron fell silent, looking ill.

“It’s fine,” Sivorin muttered after a moment, gaze turned ahead. “Red Sith are sturdier than humans.”

He didn’t have to fight Theron, at least, and that was good.

But in the end, someone ran Theron through with a lightsaber, anyway.

-

After the fight, Sivorin spit blood that he wasn’t sure was his, wiped red out of his eyes and lifted Theron up into his arms to carry him to the shuttle. He was alive, though barely, pale as a sheet and wide-eyed. Sivorin’s chest tightened at the sight, but he managed to give him a confident smile.

Once Theron was in a kolto tank on Odessen, Lana and him sat down at the small metal table in the room to assess the situation, since Sivorin was still loathe to let Theron out of his sight.

It had been, all in all, a victory. The Eternal Fleet and the Gravestone were still functional, though had the three of them arrived just minutes later they wouldn’t have been. Sivorin did not want to know what would have happened to the Alliance without those ships. Even he could do the math that they’d be under the boot of the Empire or the Republic again in no time.

“So what do we do about Zakuul?”

“We haven’t neglected them in our rebuilding efforts,” Lana said with a small shake of her head. “However, Zakuul has spent years hammering our parts of the galaxy with weapons of mass destruction, so the people of the Empire and the Republic are reluctant to share resources. With Valkorion’s power backing them, they haven’t had need to build alliances of their own and now they are alone. We can’t entirely make up for that. Aside from the actual problems, the people or Zakuul are not used to being on the back foot, either. Hurt pride will have played a role here, too.”

“We’ve got to try something. I can’t have Zakuul working against me. This could have sent the entire Alliance spiralling.” Sivorin glanced over at Theron. “I guess he did what he had to. He should have told you, though. You had that code.”

“I don’t disagree. As for Zakuul, I’ll think of measures to take. However, I doubt that there are many more superweapons like Zildrog just waiting for the taking, so at least that’s probably not a concern.”

Lana stood and Sivorin decided to separate himself from Theron’s side long enough to follow her into the war room. By now, he had the act of leader down alright, even if he couldn’t say he felt secure in his position when he’d just almost lost his entire fleet to a cult. Still, he said whatever placating words he found to smooth the ruffled feathers of his frightened Alliance, chose a couple of agents to scout the situation on Zakuul, and by the time he would usually have gone to sleep returned to Theron’s room on the med bay, watching his naked figure floating unconscious in blue water, sound asleep.

Sivorin leaned against the back of the chair, eyes half-closed. He was tired and his bones hurt. The child had been kicking him all day. He splayed his hand over his stomach. During the time when Theron had been gone, he’d often wondered if he should have kept to the path of the Dark Side instead of trying to follow his own rules he made up as he went. After all, if the Order of Zildrog was what trying to be a peacemaker got him, apparently he wasn’t very good at it. The problem was that now that he’d tasted true freedom, he didn’t want to go back to the ways of the Sith Empire, either. What did they know about the Force? Who could call their myriad of petty schemes and boring squabbles true passion?

But it was idiotic to still worry about it, wasn’t it? Things had turned out alright. He should be happy. Theron had only tried to help him – had helped him. Still, somehow he couldn’t shake the cold feeling when he considered that this was apparently what he should expect from his friends, what he needed to thank them for. Him laying awake in bed night after night for almost two months wondering what he would tell his child when they asked him how their other father had died was apparently his life going well.

The night grew long as he sat there, watching the vitals on the screen. Sivorin folded his arms on the table in front of him, resting his head on them.

 _Fuck the galaxy_ , he thought blearily. Fuck the gormless people of Zakuul who’d lived with their heads in the sand while their emperor razed entire planets, fuck the Republic and the Empire chomping at the bit to start another war, fuck the useless Jedi and the backstabbing Sith. _I should just take my child and run. What’s the point of being around people if this is all it gets you?_

There was still the Alliance, though. He could not abandon that, even if he always joked that Theron and Lana might eventually replace him with a big prototype war droid and get the same results. Still, he was the one on the throne and the Fleet was his, for better or worse.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to will away the sudden pressure inside him that forced the air out of his lungs and closed his throat.

-

Sivorin’s vigil lasted for five days and nights, interrupted only by his duties to the Alliance. When he came on the sixth day after the morning meeting in the war room, a doctor greeted him with a smile before he had reached the door to the kolto tank room.

“Commander!” she said, waving her hand to get his attention. “Theron Shan is done with immersive kolto treatment. He asked to be released when we woke him this morning and since he is stable, we are happy to do so. It should be enough if he checks in with us once a day.” She glanced over her shoulder at a door. “His tests will be done any minute.”

“Right.”

Sivorin figured he should probably stick around and wait. He’d have sat here all day if Theron had still been in the kolto tank, after all. It had been fine. Theron was his lover, the man who’d stuck it out with him through some of the worst times of Sivorin’s life. Despite everything, he’d never figured that after all this they would not be together anymore once it became clear that Theron hadn’t truly meant to betray him.

When he thought about talking to him now, though, Sivorin had absolutely no idea what to say. He was tired and annoyed and relieved. He just wanted to be away from here for a bit, do something that felt productive.

“Actually, if Theron’s alright, there’s something I need to check on. Tell him not to go straight back to work, doctor.”

After he’d left the confused woman standing, Sivorin returned to his quarters. A console allowed him to check the daily list of open missions where his people logged the many tasks on- and off-world that had to get done, but weren’t critical enough to need an emergency response. After scrolling through, one entry caught his eye. A couple of scouts had reported that the wildlife – mostly shade stalkers, steel-tailed stalkers and sleens – had moved closer to the edges of their Odessen headquarters lately. It was something for grunts between missions to do, really, but it was just the thing Sivorin needed right now.

He grabbed the backpack he had used to trek into the Wilds before out of a corner of his cramped bedroom and stuffed it with a few water bottles and a handful of pre-packaged rations. After claiming the mission as his own in the system, he stepped out into the corridor and grabbed a soldier, sending him off with the task to go tell Lana where he’d be and that she could call him if something was wrong. Then, finally, he was out under the open sky.

-

The Wilds felt a lot less crowded without ghostly voices in his ear. Sivorin spent the first day following tracks, kicking up the resting places of packs, and chasing animals through the high trees. He fought a couple of alphas and came out bloodied and bruised, glad for the heartbeat hammering in his ears. By the evening, he’d wandered away from the faint trails where scouts had put up lanterns to mark the safest ways, waded through a hip-deep river, clambered up a cliff of moss-grown rocks, and ran into a patch of forest so dark he ended up using his idle holocommunicator as a flashlight. Too tired to think, he slept in a clearing nestled into the crook of a creek that fell down into a small waterfall, clutching his lightsaber in hand.

He did not stray too far from the Alliance headquarters, just in case they needed him back urgently, but for the next two days he traversed every inch of the jungle that allowed him to not see the glinting steel of the facilities against the sky, routing the aggressive animals on his way. He chased them inland when he could, but was not sad that most were predators that attacked on sight. He ate their flesh roasted over camp fires and sucked the marrow from the bones afterwards. He threw up most of it soon after, but then, that had been all food over the last couple of months. With pain and adrenaline always running high and only crashing when exhaustion took over, he didn’t have time to think why he wanted to do nothing but fight right now. 

The evening of the third day, he called Lana to ask if the Alliance was getting along and whether Theron’s health was still improving, though in truth he knew she’d have called him if there were a problem. She reassured him of both, but said no more. Sivorin was glad for it. Though Lana was a very different kind of Sith than him, they had a way of understanding each other.

Late noon the fourth day, Sivorin had been cornered by a pack of especially aggressive shade stalkers, those strange native creatures that seemed half-spirit, half-animal. A roar that echoed off the rocks around them dispersed them briefly, giving him time to grab a young tree and rip it out of the earth with a decisive pull of the Force. He turned it, muscles burning with the effort, and then hammered the stem down like a club, again and again, dry dirt flying in clouds from the loose roots.

A shade stalker moved behind him and Sivorin hauled himself and his weapon around, but the shade stalker was already on the ground, a blaster shot burned in its back. Breathing heavily, Sivorin lifted the tree again, but lowered it to the ground when he saw Theron standing by the side of a speeder, raising his palms up in defence.

“I’m just back-up, I promise. Though it doesn’t seem like you need it.”

Sivorin dropped the tree, gulped down his breath and wiped the dust off his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You look better. Lana said you were doing fine,” he answered.

“She told me you’d asked.”

They stood in stifled silence. Sivorin stepped away from the remains of the shade stalkers to sit on the fallen trunk of some ancient tree. 

“I tracked your holocom,” Theron said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Might not have needed to, though. I could have followed the cadavers. You’ve been pretty thorough.”

“That was the job,” Sivorin said.

He wasn’t surprised that Theron had followed him, couldn’t really be mad at him, either. He’d unhappily learned to think of the kid in his belly as his own, since Theron hadn’t been around, but it was Theron’s business, too. Plus, if Theron really did still like him, there might be other reasons he wanted to talk to him.

Sivorin was tired enough from the perpetual hunt, pregnancy and lack of deep sleep out here in the wild that he decided to let it happen.

“How are you feeling?” he asked Theron.

“Better, considering the circumstances. Should be good to go again in a week or so – that is, if I’m still working for you.”

“Of course you do,” Sivorin said with a shrug. “You wanted to help the Alliance. You did. Why would I send you away?”

“Well, I could think of a reason or two, but thank you,” Theron said honestly.

He came closer now, like a man approaching a dog that might snap.

“Look, I realise well that I’m the last person who needs to tell you what to do to keep safe, considering what I put you through while you were pregnant. I read up on Red Sith anatomy, too. I understand your kind is tough. Still, going out of your way to hunt wild animals seems a little excessive.”

“Is that a challenge?” Sivorin asked with a toothy grin. “Some pest control isn’t the furthest I could go.”

Theron could not stop himself from smiling briefly. “I should’ve guessed that reaction.”

He sat down next to Sivorin, though he kept a foot of distance between them.

“What I read said Red Sith get tired quickly in the later months. I mean, you’re not a woman, obviously, so who knows if it all tracks,” Theron added, stumbling over his words. “Still, I’ve seen a few Force pregnancies when I still lived with the Jedi – people who came to them for help. The human men usually had the same things going on as a woman might, so I thought...”

“Did you actually search the holonet for information on pregnant Red Sith?” Sivorin asked, raising one ridged brow.

Theron glanced briefly to the side. “And babies. I... pretty much haven’t done anything else since I came out of the kolto tank, to be honest. Figured I should give you some time and at least try not to be a clueless idiot if you would still have me around when you came back. But you didn’t come back.”

“You could have had Lana call me. _You_ could have called me. You have my comm signal.”

“Right, yeah. But this felt like something we should be doing in person. Besides, I wanted to know what you’re up to out here.”

“What I do best,” Sivorin said blankly. “You were right about one thing: I’m no peacekeeper. No emperor, either. I’m Wrath. I guess we should all have kept that in mind.”

“Sivorin, I meant none of the things I said, I promise you. I just had to give some reason I was leaving,” Theron said, almost pleading.

“Yet you weren’t wrong and I think you know that.” Sivorin had had enough time to think to realise as much. He turned to him. “You didn’t think I was smart enough to play along. Fine. I’m not an agent like you or Lana. I’ve always been a weapon. You should have contacted her, though. You had the Rishi code. She would have kept quiet.”

“You’re not a weapon, you’re our leader.”

Sivorin didn’t answer. He didn’t want to argue. Theron lowered his gaze.

“I wasn’t thinking straight, I was too afraid that if I made my move too early, I’d compromise the mission. Looking back – I was reckless, trusting that you and Lana would survive with so few hints from me. I’ve been an agent long enough that I should have known better than to believe that you’d keep pulling magic tricks out of thin air. You did, but just because it worked so far doesn’t mean it’s a strategy. If something had happened to either of you – all three of you...”

“Well, it worked out,” Sivorin said.

Theron glanced at him.

“I still can’t believe you’re sitting here with me,” he admitted. “You know, every night I was gone I had this dream: You walked away and I tried to catch up, but I never could no matter what I tried.” He gave a humourless laugh. “I almost figured that if I met you here, you’d just take off into the forest.”

“You’re not that scary,” Sivorin muttered, trying for a grin.

“Why didn’t you tell me before Umbara that you were pregnant? You must be pretty far along by the looks of it.” Theron cursed under his breath. “Maybe it was better that way. I don’t think I could have left if you had.”

“I only found out the day we were to go to Umbara. Figured we’d get the mission over with and I would tell you afterwards.” Sivorin frowned at the memory of the happy fantasy he’d had of Theron’s wide-eyed surprise. “I knew you’d get twitchy if you had to fight next to me while I was pregnant. I thought you might do something stupid like get yourself hurt in my stead when it really wasn’t necessary.”

“You know me well – that’s what I’d like to say, anyway. I guess I can’t claim I really protected you or our child now, can I?”

“Isn’t that what you were doing?”

Theron pressed his lips into a thin line. “Yes, but that’s the big picture, isn’t it? All I really _wanted_ to do was steal a shuttle, get back to the Alliance, and convince you to come along to some uninhabited nowhereplace. Why not let them all deal with the mess they were so desperate to get themselves into? You’ve pulled them out enough times. Why should my family suffer because the warmongers want to fight again? But I knew you wouldn’t have come, and I couldn’t leave the Alliance hanging like that, either.”

It was strange to hear Theron echo his own saddened thoughts with so few variations.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Sivorin said quietly. “The Alliance is mine. You’re right that I won’t leave it behind. But I thought about the same thing. You just weren’t with me and the baby.”

Theron looked like Sivorin had punched him in the face, but nodded his head.

“I can see you’re angry at me. I don’t blame you,” he said.

“How so?” Sivorin asked.

Usually, it was not difficult to tell when he was furious and he wasn’t screaming at Theron, didn’t feel like doing so, either.

Theron flicked his gaze over to the dead shadow stalkers and the fallen tree, raising a brow. Sivorin just stopped himself from telling him that he was wrong. He was angry at _something_ , wasn’t he? He hadn’t realised that that was where the flame inside him came from because it made no sense. Theron hadn’t, in truth, done anything wrong. Theron had always been better at reading Sivorin than Sivorin himself was, though.

“Your strategy was good, in the end. I don’t know why I am angry,” he said, hearing frustration in his own voice.

“I might have been a passable agent, but I wasn’t much of a boyfriend. Or a father.”

“No, you weren’t, you rat bastard.”

Sivorin knocked his head against Theron’s none too gently, then let it drop against his shoulder. Theron sat still for a while before a careful hand came to rest on Sivorin’s leg. The weight in Sivorin’s chest lifted a little. It didn’t take the fury or the pain, but it fed the love for Theron that Sivorin had used so often to connect to the Force, that familiar furnace in his core. He wished Theron had loved him enough to not be able to do this, but at the same time he knew that for Theron, this had been a way to show that he _did_ love him, even if it would have come at the expense of what was between them. Sivorin could never have done something like it, but he’d always admired his lover’s sharp intelligence, even when it cut like a knife.

“It would be boring on an empty world without you,” Sivorin murmured, after a moment. “I’d probably take you, after all.”

Theron sat up a little and Sivorin lifted his head from his shoulder. Theron’s hands gripped Sivorin’s tightly as he met his gaze.

“Can you give me one more chance?”

“I wasn’t looking forward to being a single father, anyway.” Sivorin hesitated. He wanted to leave it at that, but he figured that it wasn’t really fair to Theron. “It might not be like before right away. You’re not the first person I trusted who tried to get me killed, and everybody else meant it.”

“I know,” Theron said sternly. “That’s not what I’m asking.”

Sivorin nodded his head. It would probably take a while until he trusted Theron not to pull a blaster on him every time he turned his back. Eventually, though, he’d swallow that feeling. He’d learned to sleep knowing Quinn was on his ship, too.

“Let’s head back,” he said, pointing his thumb towards Theron’s speeder.

-

Sivorin drove and as they raced back on the marked dirt tracks, Theron had no choice but to cling to him, though Sivorin had noticed with some amusement that he’d still attempted to be decent at first. With Sivorin’s sides and stomach being out of the question for holding on to, though, Theron had to wrap his arms around Sivorin’s neck, and as the forest whizzed by them in a green blur, Sivorin realised he didn’t want this to end. 

It did, though, at the mechanical gate of the headquarters, and they walked in side by side, not touching.

“I think I’m gonna give Lana a quick visit, tell her you’re back. Meet back up at yours?” Theron asked.

Sivorin nodded his head.

As he pushed through the door into his chambers – a front room with a table and chairs and an empty fridge, a backroom filled almost entirely with his bed and a console, and a bathroom –, the walls and ceiling felt claustrophobic. He hadn’t precisely enjoyed himself in the forest, but wide-open places had always appealed to him. Only being on the Fury compared, the only space ship in his whole fleet that felt wholly like his own. Maybe someday, if he would ever get the chance, he really would take Theron and the child away from all this, even if only for a few days.

He stripped off the dirt-stained armour and took a quick shower before he fell back on the bed without clothes, groping for one of the water bottles on his nightstand. He’d had river water to drink, but the way he had exerted himself had gotten to his reserves and the weather had been humid and hot for a while. He downed half of the water before he put it away and allowed his eyes to slide shut, resting them for only a moment in the dim twilight.

-

When Sivorin woke, he still laid in half-darkness, the room illuminated by the soft glow of the console. A blanket was spread over him. Theron sat at the computer, fingers gliding over the glowing keys and Sivorin suppresse the urge to wince at the unexpected, all-too-familiar sight. It was new, Theron being around again.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

Theron looked up, only noticing now that Sivorin had woken.

“After the path of destruction you cut through the local wildlife, I thought you might need the rest.”

Sivorin grunted, sitting up against the cool wall, the blanket sliding into his lap. One thing was true about Theron’s holonet research: he had wanted to sleep much more than usual over the last month or so.

“If the mother is tired, the baby is strong. That’s what my grandfather used to say,” he murmured. “Must go for me as well.”

He noticed Theron’s gaze flitting to his stomach, then quickly going back to his face. Sivorin supposed the sight was pretty unusual. He hadn’t been showing when Theron had left. Humans had a more gradual shift during pregnancy from what Sivorin had seen.

“You can look,” he added.

“Right, I just – you know. You’re not in a zoo, I don’t need to stare.”

“Still, you’re responsible for this, too.”

“Yes,” Theron said almost reverently.

He got up from the console and sat down at the side of the bed, but didn’t move closer. Sivorin watched him for a moment before he simply yanked him by his arm, making Theron lie next to him.

“This is weird,” he declared. “I might look over my shoulder sometimes when you’re around, but I don’t want you to not be my boyfriend until we’ve figured this out, unless you don’t want to be.”

“I do. I love you,” Theron told him, without hesitation.

“Yeah, you wrote me that message.”

Sivorin had tried to delete it a hundred times, but it was still there and he had read it until he knew it by heart. It was the ending that had gotten to him most, aside from Theron’s talk about how the Alliance – Sivorin – had lost his confidence. _Trust that everything I do is for the good of the galaxy. I don’t expect you to understand. But however this ends, I just want you to know that I loved you from the moment I saw you. And I always will._

Theron grimaced. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t even know what I was trying to do. I guess I just wanted to reassure you that you hadn’t been wrong about my feelings for you.”

“Not going to lie, it wasn’t much better thinking I’d fucked up so bad that someone who actually cared for me still couldn’t have it on his conscience to stick around.”

“I get that. I guess I also just – couldn’t bear not talking to you.” He frowned. “I was never this terrible an agent before this, you know? I wouldn’t have dreamed of almost breaking cover just to get in contact with my lover.”

Sivorin chuckled quietly. It was, admittedly, a little soothing that Theron had at least been conflicted. He didn’t enjoy his suffering, but at least they had been unhappy together.

“Right,” he muttered. “Any other detail I really need to skewer you for?”

“Probably a few hundred,” Theron said.

“I don’t think I can remember any,” Sivorin answered. “Let’s stop this.”

When he was going to let go off it, it wasn’t going to be because he’d watched Theron prostrate himself and made him admit how guilty he felt over and over. It had happened, there was nothing to be done to change it. They would work from here.

“Okay,” Theron said uncertainly. “Do you want to go back to sleep? Or I could bring you some food from the cantina. You probably haven’t eaten in a while.”

“I had a lot of sleen lately, it keeps you full.”

“Are they edible?” Theron asked, doubtfully.

“Most things are if you try hard enough.” Sivorin grinned. “Do you have a nutrition plan for pregnant Red Sith on a datapad somewhere?”

“It was just among the information I looked up,” Theron said and had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

Sivorin laughed at him. “I guess I could try something different. I was getting tired of meat, anyway. I’m not usually keeping much food down these days, though.”

“Maybe you should speak to the doctors?”

Theron looked immediately concerned, which was rich for a man who had been stabbed with a lightsaber not a fortnight ago.

“It’s not unusual. It’ll just be a few months more until she’s around, anyway.”

“She?” Theron asked, raising his gaze.

Right, Theron didn’t know that, either. They had a lot of catching up to do.

“It’s a girl. The doctors told me. I don’t have a name yet, though, aside from Shan.”

“You don’t want her to have your last name?”

Sivorin shrugged. “I don’t really talk to my family. I forget I have a last name half the time. Or a first name. I’ve been going by some title or another for so long. I guess your name meant more – people actually use it, for one.”

“The Shans are a prominent line,” Theron said slowly.

“You know I don’t care about that.”

Sivorin struggled to put in words why he’d chosen so early that she would be Shan, that he’d wanted Theron to still be with her, whatever happened. Even if Sivorin would have had to kill Theron, there was no denying that he had loved him like no one before and that he was her other father. However, judging by Theron’s expression, he understood at least some of that. Sivorin really was lucky to be with someone so bright.

“I guess I can’t really help you with some things.” Theron gave a lopsided smile. “But if you need me to rub your feet or bring you some weird Zakuulian food or just keep the others off your back for a bit, you only have to ask. I already missed way more of this than I should have.”

“Think of a name. You’ll find a good one,” Sivorin said, after a moment’s contemplation.

Theron glanced at his belly as if he was trying to see through it and figure out what name might fit the person underneath. Sivorin took his hand and placed it on top. The way Theron’s fingers stiffened and then flattened against him, running over the swell of his stomach, Sivorin figured he’d guessed right that Theron had wanted to do this for a while.

Sweet as the moment was, however, feeling Theron’s hands on him again gave him other ideas as well.

“You know, there is one thing I’ve really wanted to do, but my boyfriend was off playing with cultists, so I had to take care of myself,” he said with a smirk. “I guess I’ll let you off the hook until your injuries are healed, though.”

He was flirting now, but there had been a struggle when his body was ready to go, but his head balked at the idea of thinking of the man he wanted most. He’d done it sometimes, anyway, with images that had ranged between tainted memories and truly pathetic fantasies of Theron’s return. It hadn’t been very fun.

Theron raised his brows.

“I’m not going to do any heavy lifting for now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help out...” he said, letting the sentence hang in the air unfinished as he allowed his hand to slide lower.

Sivorin considered him for a moment. He would never say no to a blowjob or even some hands-on help from Theron, but for their first time back together, it didn’t feel like enough.

“Can I ride you or is that going to hurt?” he asked.

“I don’t think it will, but I probably won’t be able to do much more than lie there. Thrusting up still needs a few more unsevered abdominal muscles than I currently possess,” Theron said, looking down at himself. “If you simply lay back and relax, though, I can take care of you.”

“It’s okay. This is a way to pleasure me, too,” Sivorin joked, grasping Theron by the shoulders to push him flat on his back

“In a liberal interpretation of the word,” Theron allowed as Sivorin leaned in to kiss his smiling mouth.

Sivorin made sure to sit on Theron’s hips, not his middle, when he lowered himself against Theron, turning Theron’s head with his hands so he could kiss his ear, his neck, just above his collar bone. It was fucking embarrassing to say how much he had missed the way Theron’s arms slid around him, considering he was a grown man and leader of a good chunk of the galaxy, but Sivorin was too starved to deny himself the softer thoughts in his head.

It satisfied him to feel Theron hard against his backside from just these few touches. They had both waited for this.

“You weren’t going on any honey pot missions in the Cult, were you?” he muttered, not entirely serious. Theron had proven that much loyalty to him.

Theron snorted. “I’m not that kind of agent.”

“You could be. You have the looks,” Sivorin said, chuckling against Theron’s neck. His hands ran up under his pullover, but staid carefully away from the scars.

“Besides, you certainly had much more justification than me to find someone to help you with any – needs you had. I know you didn’t, what with the surveillance the Order of Zildrog had on you, but I’m just saying.”

“If only it were that easy to replace you.”

Sivorin had thought about it in moments of spiteful rage during the months of his absence, but in the end, even just the idea of kissing someone else had tasted like ashes in his mouth. What good would it do to find some random man if he only wanted Theron?

Theron gave a slim smile. “I don’t know, it seems a piece of plastic might do my job just fine right now,” he joked.

Sivorin only growled his protest, tugging the pullover down to bite his shoulder. He felt Theron’s hand slide down over his naked ass and thighs before one lifted from his skin. A small, wet sound came from above him and then Theron’s fingers returned to his backside, slick with spit.

Sivorin thumbed Theron’s nipple and ground himself both against the tent of his hard cock in his trousers and the digit sliding into him. Theron was usually more patient than him, but today Sivorin could feel he was crumbling, too, allowing Sivorin to set his hasty pace, already pushing another finger into him as Sivorin thrust his tongue into his mouth.

“Enough,” Sivorin said, when they parted after a long kiss, breathless.

Theron licked his lips and nodded his head. Sivorin gave him another peck or two before he managed to separate himself and pushed his hand into the small bedside table, rummaging between scrounged credit chits and weapon mods and finally getting a hold of a tube of lube. Theron pulled out his fingers and fumbled with the zipper of his trousers. Sivorin felt a small pang of regret that he was not naked, a sight he’d missed sorely in his bed, but he could not wait to undress him now. Theron’s breath stuttered when Sivorin slicked up his cock, grasping him firmly in his fist.

Sivorin sat back on his heels when he sank onto him, making sure that his weight was shifted over Theron’s hips rather than to his stomach. Theron’s hands stretched out, running up and down Sivorin’s thighs, feeling the muscle move as Sivorin plunged down on him. With every movement, he remembered another sound or sight he’d missed dearly: the way Theron tried to keep his voice down and how Sivorin would wring noises out of him, anyway; how he flushed from his neck up to the tips of his ears; the moments when he couldn’t fully control himself, his hands grabbing harder than they would have if his brain were still in the pilot’s seat.

Sivorin came first and all Theron had to do was give his cock a couple of quick strokes and look up at him, smitten, honest. Sivorin didn’t miss a beat, though, greedy to feel himself tightening around Theron, still riding him fast and hard. Theron made a strangled sound, his fingernails digging crescents into Sivorin’s thigh as he spent himself.

“I’d say it’s a surprise you can move like that with all this weight in front of you, but I saw you use a tree as a cudgel,” Theron murmured, after he’d caught his breath, gently rubbing Sivorin’s belly.

Sivorin chuckled. He allowed Theron to clean him up with an old shirt Sivorin had dropped next to the bed at some point before he laid down next to him. Moving was a bit cumbersome, especially if he didn’t have lust racing through his veins, but from Theron’s fond gaze he didn’t think he minded the clumsiness.

Theron sat, placing his hand on Sivorin’s shoulder.

“Let me get you a proper dinner before you go back to sleep,” he said. 

“Still planning to spoil me?” Sivorin asked. “Pretty sure you got me wrapped around your finger already. You always did.”

Even if the fear that the cold look would come into Theron’s eyes again was still there, Sivorin felt better now. He was embarrassingly easy for Theron, not that it was a surprise. If the man wanted to kill him still, Sivorin gave it a couple of months and he wouldn’t see it coming anymore. But perhaps that was preferable to always wondering, always second-guessing. There had to be some advantage to not being the smart one. 

“I’m not taking a chance on that,” Theron said. “Besides, I’ve never really had the opportunity before. A pregnancy is the perfect excuse.”

“Alright, I’m not stopping you. Do your worst.”

Theron closed his jacket over his stained shirt, put on the shoes he’d left by the door. There was peaceful quiet in the room for a moment.

“I wonder what our child will look like. Will it be human, or Red Sith, or both?” Theron mused.

Sivorin looked at the ceiling, pretending to think.

“If you mix us, you’d get bright pink. That would be a cute look for a baby, though if she likes stealth like you, that colour won’t help her anywhere but when hiding behind billboards on Nar Shaddaa.” 

Theron laughed and Sivorin closed his eyes, smiling.


End file.
